


Fevers and Rainstorms

by NorthwesternInsanity



Series: AC/DC 2016 [1]
Category: AC/DC, Music RPF
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Sickfic, hearing loss, ominous weather
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 10:55:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15906861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NorthwesternInsanity/pseuds/NorthwesternInsanity
Summary: Neither a rainstorm, nor a nasty head cold has ever stopped the thunder from down under... But when both strike at once, Brian gets the ominous feeling that there may be a far worse storm to come... [Prequel to "Mediator"]





	Fevers and Rainstorms

**Author's Note:**

> Backed up from my Rockfic account; originally written in summer of 2016 to cope with all the bad things happening to AC/DC at once and the resulting changes. Prior to backing up here, minor edits were made both here and on other sites to make the dialogue and narration flow more smoothly (as it was written before I had fully worked out my bandfic writing style.)

"Ai-yi-yi, of course it would be -shhhhhhhhhit...!"

There was only one reason why on the way to a show in Winnepeg, AC/DC's sound tech Brendan O'Brien would have been drawing out the beginning of swears in such a dramatic way before he even went on his real rampage.

A weather forecast with a 90% or higher chance of heavy precipitation. Already, the skies looked threatening an hour away from the venue. That meant extra measures to set up so that the equipment had no risk of getting water in it and causing a whole world of hurt. And in winter temperatures, it meant a good chance of somebody getting sick.

Stevie looked up from where he was reading. "Rain, snow, or sleet? _Hail?"_

Hail was unlikely, but there was no doubt that it would postpone them, because even if they decided to play in it, any open, outdoor venue would make for a concern for audience safety should the stones get any bigger. Once that came up, whoever was in charge there would put their foot down to prevent a spectator from getting hurt.

Snow and sleet weren't too bad -if it didn't get blown on stage, where for certain it would melt under the lights and create slipping hazards in isolated, small areas where nobody could see or expect them. Or, possibly somebody would get a cord or something electrical in the puddles. The stage lights helped control temperature onstage, but when the band would come offstage at the end of the night sweaty and heated from the excitement and exertion of performance, the wind and snow would deliver a brutally cold shock.

Rain was the worst though. It managed to always get the entire front half of the stage floor wet, if not the whole thing. Getting equipment on and offstage and keeping it dry was a runaway nightmare and almost every time somebody managed to get hurt to some degree.

"Dammit... Rain!" grumbled Brendan. "Angus!" He shouted loudly as if the guitarist were on the other end of the bus, ready to inform him of the same things he always did when they were going to be on in a rainstorm.

Angus came out of his bunk, having obviously been woken up. That wasn't the only thing obvious by his appearance though.

Brian, noticing how Brendan had suddenly gone silent, looked up from his laptop. His eyes got big as saucers.

"Angus, mate... I don't even need a thermometer ta know ya got a fevuh bigger than life... Don't even deny it." he warned.

Angus was deathly pale, looking like all the life had been sucked out of him, with the exception of very brightly flushed cheeks. He had dark circles under his eyes -which were glazed over. He stumbled and grabbed onto the bunk rail -clearly a bit dizzy and possibly disoriented. He wasn't exactly looking in the direction of anybody when he spoke. 

"Brian, please, don't fuss..." he groaned, voice raw. "I'll be okay." He hated being fawned over whenever he was sick on the road -mainly because it was one of the few things that could make him homesick before a show.

Stevie looked back up from his book. "Angus... You're delirious." His uncle had been fighting this cold for a few days now, but it was obvious that it had unleashed it's worst wrath today.

"And you're going to be playing in the rain." added Brendan. "Stevie, go get the first aid kit."

"I don't care. To hell with the rain!" snapped Angus a little too forcefully, causing himself to go into a coughing fit. "Brendan, please don't wake up Cliff and Chris. I don't want to hear it from them too, y'know, it's bad enough without that. We have a show scheduled in how many hours. At this point, we're going on no matter what!"

Stevie had gone to get the thermometer from the bus' first aid kit under Brendan's orders. It had been bought in America -luckily, they had learned the Fahrenheit system quite well many years ago with their time in the states. 

"If that's above 102 now, it had better be on or below it by the time we go on. If you're delirious, you're not gonna remember a thing about keeping the equipment dry, and you're gonna forget about the wet floor, slip when you're running around, and knock one of the systems out." Brendan was on a complete rant now.

Angus rolled his eyes and checked the reading he'd just gotten. "103. Just give me something to control the symptoms and ibuprofen to get the fever down, let me lie down until we get there, and I'll be fine." he groaned.

So they did just that, and seven hours later, as they were preparing to go on, Angus was indeed fine. He was still clearly sick, but his fever had dropped to just slightly below 101 degrees, and he seemed plenty energetic once in his suit and with his SG strapped on.

It was freezing onstage. The wind was blowing directly at them and causing the rain to go sideways with it, drenching the stage and everything on it. The show was great, but by the time it was over the road crew had a huge mess on their hands to ensure all the sound equipment, rigs, and wires were dry before packing them up, and the boys were freezing.

Angus pointedly went back to his bunk right after showering, even though he would only be there for the time it took them to get to the airport, as they didn't have enough time to get to Vancouver by road for tomorrow night.

Brian, still awake and trying to warm up, was beginning to feel a sore throat and sinus headache coming on. Being the singer, he spent the whole show on the front edge of the stage, taking a full dose of direct wind and rain.

"Uh-oh..." He groaned to himself.

"Not feeling good?" asked Cliff.

"I got meself something comin' on, that's for sure..." 

"Well, hopefully it won't be anything we haven't managed to push through in the past," said Cliff. 

He then diverted his attention back to deciding what else he might want to bring on the plane just in case, and noting the condition of his bandmates, added a small, acceptable sized container of ibuprofen, and in case if anyone suffered one of the real rare joys of air travel, the small box of just a few Excedrin migraine tablets. Good old Cliff. Always the friendly one hidden away from the spotlight who always made a point of looking after everyone else around him as well as himself.

"Hopefully. I don't think it will," Brian replied. _Why was it that the moment he said that, he got the most ominous feeling that something was going to go dreadfully wrong?_

He pushed off the feeling best as he could to the back of his mind. Enough had happened in the past couple of years; there was no need to get worked up when there was no definite problem yet. And in two hours, he boarded the plane to Vancouver with the others.

Brian still had the sinus headache. It wasn't that bad, but it was enough to make him want to go to sleep the moment the plane got going. He had taken Cliff's offer up in the airport for the Excedrin just because the pressure and pain was mostly behind his eyes and forehead, and presented itself like that of a double sided migraine. It still wasn't good, even if it would have been worse without it, though now he was starting to feel cold-like symptoms that were only going to make the flight miserable.

As the plane took off, his ears plugged up as the pressure shifted. Brian was quite used to this feeling, having been on many a plane ride. But it was when his right ear didn't pop and the pressure got worse that things beside the plane itself escalated. For Brian, most notably the discomfort.

He must have been cringing, because Chris, who was sitting on the other side of the aisle, leaned across and tapped him. "Brian? You alright?"

The pain in Brian's ear was stabbing now from the high cabin pressure, as the plane had climbed to a pretty high altitude to avoid turbulence from the storm below.

"Ai, Chris... This sinus thing -the cabin pressure just shifted it, and me ear won't pop... Probably nothin', but-" he broke off and groaned. "Good Christ, it hurts..." 

Chris looked at Brian, concerned. Brian didn't have the highest tolerance of pain, but he tended to push through it and take it silently as much as possible. The way he was looking, covering his ear, trying desperately to get it to pop, and the fact he had admitted it was hurting -it looked pretty agonizing. 

"Cliff?" Chris tapped on the bassist, who was curled up in the seat next to him, attempting to sleep.

Cliff woke up and pushed his hair out of his face drowsily. "Yeah, Chris, what's the matter?"

Chris pointed across the aisle. "Brian... He -I think he's in a lot of pain, Cliff."

Cliff got up so he could get a better look. 

"Brian... You look like you got a fever now too."

"Cliff, it's not that. The sinus pressure shifted to me ear and it won't reduce itself. It's like a stabbing..." Brian explained his dilemma, keeping a semblance of calm, though the cringe was evident in his voice and his expression was pained.

Cliff started to feel concerned. That wasn't normal. He checked his watch. They'd been on the plane for over an hour now, but they still had almost two to go.

"Okay, Brian, we have a couple of hours before we arrive. I'm not sure what else we can do, but if I come up with something, I'll let you know. Just try and hang in there. If it gets worse and it's really unbearable, tell somebody -we'll figure something out." Giving him a firm pat on the shoulder as a gesture of comfort, the bassist tried to reassure the singer and let him know that they would look out for him, but he felt helpless seeing his friend in this foreign state of discomfort when they were up in the air and miles from their destination.

Brian ended up toughing it out until they got to Vancouver, in agony most of the time between the ear pain, the congestion making it hard to breathe, and aching with fever everywhere else. Had he been able to fall asleep like Angus had, it wouldn't have felt so awful. It was another hour after landing before the stabbing pain in his ear resolved and went away, and a week later, even after the sinus pressure from the cold, and the cold and fever were going away, he still felt like his right ear was plugged.

And on the flight to Australia, the pain came back. Less intense without the fever headache and all the sinus congestion and inflammation adding to the pressure, but still bad enough that Brian felt the need to tell his bandmates about it.

"I didn't have those symptoms, Brian," warned Angus. "I think we had better get you checked out, y'know? Go into town, find a doctor who specializes in that, make sure nothing's serious."

"Yeah, Angus... I think you're right, mate." 

For some reason, Brian had the feeling deep down that it was serious.

The ENT specialist, Dr. Chang, saw Brian once they got to Sydney. After hearing Brian's story of how the symptoms came on, he looked through the otoscope and got an expression that was less than comforting.

"You've got crystallization of fluids in your ears, and they've done a number of damage in there, Brian. My guess is the sinus fluid got up there during your flight and got trapped." Dr. Chang explained.

"Is there anything possible to get rid of them -to fix it?" asked Brian.

"We can give you steroids to break down the crystals and heal some of the damage, but you've lost a good amount of the hearing in your ear, and some of it is irreversible."

"Will I still be able to perform?" Brian nearly held his breath.

Dr. Chang sighed. "If you wear your proper protection, and that still may not do it. I would say go to a few performances, and in two weeks I want to have you reevaluated and see if there's been any more change. Your ears may retain what they have now, or they may get worse. The reason we need to check again soon is that if they are going to get worse, damage can occur rapidly -you've already had a big dip, and we don't want you to lose any more."

"I understand. Thanks, Dr. Chang."

Brian left rather optimistic, determined to take the proper measures needed to protect his hearing and never forget it again. Certainly, he could get better if he took proper precaution. His bandmates were also optimistic.

"Right on, then -you'll do what you need to do, and _never forget your protection again!"_ Brendan O'Brien emphasized the last part, even though it had been when he was car racing, not performing, that he'd forgotten his earplugs.

"Ah, Brendan, if I forgot me hearing protection onstage, me ears would've been toast by now!" Brian joked. It wasn't really a joke though, as their last concert had been recorded as audible four miles away.

"Oh certainly -don't do it!" Cliff reiterated, laughing. "If you do, you'd be glad to lose it, because if you didn't, you'd never hear the end of it from Brendan again!"

"And you will go and revisit Dr. Chang as he said," reminding Angus. "We don't want any surprises, y'know? I think we've had enough!"

"Oh no, we sure don't!" Brendan answered for Brian. 

"And if you get pain on a plane like that again, you tell us, and we're not even waiting until that point to go back." added Chris, just for good measure. Everyone wanted to make sure that Brian had the best chance possible of recovering.

And at the end of two weeks, Brian had experienced no bouts of pain in his right ear, neither of his ears had the plugged feeling anymore, and the remnants of the sinus cold were long gone.

So nothing, _nothing_ could have prepared him for what the reading was when he made his follow up visit.

Dr. Chang came back in with the test results on a printed chart. His expression was that of a doctor's when they had news that nobody wanted to hear.

Brian felt a jolt through his chest -like missing a step while descending a stairwell. Almost like electrocution, and it settled into his stomach, lingering with the feeling of having been punched in the gut. And he hadn't even gotten the news yet.

Dr. Chang showed him the chart. There was a small, but noticeable drop since the last time.

"You're killing your ears."

Brian's heart dropped like a stone.

The pain on the plane had been bad. The angst he'd felt when three spectators had been trampled at a concert years ago had been excruciating enough that it still hurt to remember.

But nothing, absolutely nothing he had ever experienced would match the agonizing pain of the crushing news that he might never perform again, and having to carry the news back to his bandmates.


End file.
